


A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

by Tinybit92



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Gen, I Remember You, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinybit92/pseuds/Tinybit92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Ice King tries to cheer Marceline up when he realizes he's upset her somehow.<br/>"You said I took this picture, didn't you? How about you tell me what we were doing when I took the picture?"<br/>Set immediately after I Remember You.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help it. I've had Marceline feels all day. I had to write them out.

“That was really great!” the Ice King enthused from the middle of Marceline’s living room. “We gotta sing that again and record it this time. I still can’t believe I wrote that. I mean, I don’t even remember writing it.”  
  
“Of course you don’t,” Marceline sighed. She sat on the couch, trying to breathe, trying to stay calm, while this crazy old man rambled in front of her. This was too much. She wasn’t expecting to find letters Simon had written for her. For a moment she’d thought that hearing his own words might bring some part of her friend back to the Ice King. She really had to stop getting her hopes up.  
  
The Ice King sat excitedly next to her while he continued to babble on about his song. “Those lyrics were pretty strange though. I wonder why your name was in there. And that whole thing about the crown saying something to make you frown, what does that even mean? My crown doesn’t talk.” He chuckled at the notion.  
  
Marceline growled. “Stupid crown.” It was the reason for all this. All the pain she and Simon had been through was because of that crown. She glared at the offending object for a moment before slapping it off of his head. She watched it roll across her floor and bump into the wall with a metallic clang.  
  
“Hey!” The Ice King stood up to chase after his crown. “That wasn’t very nice.” He picked up his crown and dusted it off. Instead of putting it back on his head though, he just held it in his hands and stared thoughtfully at it’s polished surface. He started to frown.  
  
The change of expression caught Marceline’s attention. She quirked an eyebrow curiously.  
  
“You know,” he said, his tone somewhat quiet. “Sometimes, when I’m not wearing my crown, I start to feel really sad. I don’t know why. I just start feeling kind of empty and upset. Sometimes I get these fuzzy pictures in my head, like faded memories or something. I usually see a bunch of ruined buildings, or this giant mushroom on the horizon, or I hear this happy little laugh that sounds like a little girl. And every once in a while I get this really fuzzy image of a pretty red-haired girl with glasses.”  
  
The Ice King was broken from his thoughtful monologue by a hiccupping sound behind him. He turned around to see Marceline sobbing on the couch. Her hands gripped tightly against the seat cushion while she choked on the tears that were rolling down her face.  
  
“Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?” He quickly ran back to where she was seated, almost tripping on his beard. He set the crown on the sofa and knelt down on the floor in front of Marceline. “Hey, did I do this? Am I the reason you’re crying?”  
  
“What do you think?” she said without looking up at him.  
  
“Oh, jeez, I’m sorry. What’d I say? Look, I didn’t mean to upset you.” For some reason, he felt really awful about making Marceline cry. Maybe it was because she’d been so nice about helping him with his song. Whatever the reason, all he wanted right now was for her to stop crying.  
  
He frantically searched around him for something to try to cheer her up. He spotted the photo from earlier and hurriedly picked it up. “This is a picture of you, right? No bite marks on your neck. Guess you weren’t a vampire yet. You said I took this picture, didn’t you?”  
  
Marceline looked at the photo and wiped at the tears that were still flooding from her eyes. “Yeah, you did.”  
  
“Well, that’s pretty cool. How about you tell me what we were doing when I took the picture?”  
  
She wiped more persistently at the tears and stared downward while she tried to think. “Umm, we were wandering through a destroyed city somewhere. We did that a lot. You always used to tell me that we shouldn’t stay in one place for too long, because we didn’t want to run out of resources. So, we were looking through some abandoned houses, trying to see if there was any food there that was still good. I found some broken picture frames with old photos in them. They were family pictures, some of the parents, some of the kids, that sort of thing. And I said, ‘Simon, why do these people have so many pictures of themselves?’ You told me it was because…” Marceline faltered for a moment, then gave a soft laugh. “Because pictures are like memories that don’t fade with time. They remind you of good times you had with the people in them. If a person is gone, sometimes looking at their picture can help you feel better. People like to keep pictures of the ones they love, so that they never forget how important they are.”  
  
Marceline was quiet for a moment. A couple more tears fell from her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She took a breath and continued. “I said I thought that was really cool, and then you got this excited look on your face and started looking in your bag. You said, ‘I’ve got a great idea, Marcy. Since we‘re kind of like a family, how about I take a picture of you. That way, I’ll always have a reminder of what a wonderful little girl you are.’ You pulled a camera out of your bag, and I got so excited. It made me feel really special to know I was important enough that you wanted a picture of me.” She smiled to herself, getting lost in the memory of that warm feeling. Being so happy to know that someone really loved her.  
  
“Wow,” Ice King said from his spot on the floor. “That’s a really great story.” His eyebrows creased. “I sure wish I could remember it myself.” He looked at the picture in his hands, then back up at Marceline. “Why don’t I remember any of this? I shouldn’t forget important stuff like that.”  
  
“Because that was when you were still Simon. Before the crown took away who you were and changed you into… this.” She gestured at Ice King. “You don’t remember anything from when you were Simon because… you’re not Simon anymore. Simon’s gone. All that’s left now, is the crazy old Ice King, who keeps showing up at my house without even knowing who I am.” Marceline curled up on her side and dropped her head onto the armrest of the couch. She closed her eyes and hugged her knees to her chest, trying not to cry again.  
  
The Ice King stared at her for a moment, feeling genuinely sad that he couldn’t be who she wanted him to. He moved back to the couch again, nudging his crown away so he could sit. He locked his gaze on the floor and was quiet for a few minutes. “I’m sorry I don’t remember.”  
  
Marceline opened her eyes to look at him.  
  
“I really wish I did. It sounds like we had a lot of fun wandering around together.”  
  
She sighed. “It’s not your fault. It’s just the way things turned out. And there’s nothing I can do to change that. No matter how much I want to.” _Or how much it hurts._  
  
They were both completely silent for several long minutes.  
  
“Marceline?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Could you write down that story for me? That way, I can keep it with the picture, and I’ll never forget why it’s important.”  
  
A few more seconds of silence. Then she sat up.  
  
“Sure. I’ll go get a pen and paper.”


End file.
